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Authors: Julie Garwood

BOOK: Ransom
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“After I had drawn the map of the clans for Waldo, he asked me if I knew a warrior named Brodick.”

“He is
Laird
to you,” Liam snapped.

Henley quickly nodded. “I am only repeating the farmer's words to me,” he rushed out. “He called your laird Brodick. I told him I did indeed know who he was asking about, and I also explained that he is called Laird Buchanan now. He asked many questions about you, Laird, but he was most interested in knowing, for a certainty, that you were . . . honorable. I told him that you were most honorable, and that was when he confessed his true reason for being in the Highlands. He said he was escorting your bride.”

“Is that when her father's soldiers presented themselves?”

“Nay,” Henley answered. “There were but two traveling with the lady, no less, no more, brothers they were, and much too old for such a duty. I searched for others, but there were none.”

“What kind of father sends his daughter with but two old men to guard her?” Aaron asked.

“There were no others,” Henley insisted. “Aye, they were old men, in their forties, but they were able to get her all the way to the Len holding, and that is quite a distance inside the Highlands. The brothers were very protective
toward her. They wouldn't let me see her, but told me that she was inside the church. They gave me a message to relate to you, Laird, and then tried to send me on my way with the promise that you would richly reward me. I want nothing from you, though,” he hastened to add, “for I have already been given my reward.”

“And what was that?” Robert asked.

“I saw the lady and spoke to her. No gift could ever equal that moment.”

Liam openly scoffed, but Henley ignored him. “Laugh if you wish, but you have not seen her yet, and you cannot understand.”

“Tell us about her,” Aaron commanded.

“She called out to me through the open window when I was leaving. I had agreed to gain permission from my laird to come to you, though in all honesty, I hoped Laird MacDonald would give the errand to another, because I had great trepidation about coming here.”

“Get to the point,” Dylan ordered.

The commander was curious over Brodick's reaction, for his laird hadn't said much of anything at all since the questioning had begun. He appeared to be somewhat bored by the news that an Englishwoman was claiming to be his bride.

Henley cleared his throat before continuing. “The lady, she called out to me and I leapt from my horse and rushed to the window before Waldo and his brother could stop me, as I was most curious to see her and hear what she had to say.”

The messenger paused as he remembered the vivid details of that enchanting moment. His entire demeanor changed in the blink of an eye from fearful to that of a man besotted, and his voice became as smooth as honey as he recounted the meeting.

“I saw her clearly and stood close enough to touch her hand.”

“And did you touch her?” Brodick asked the question in a soft, chilling tone.

Henley frantically shook his head. “Nay, I would never dare such audacity,” he insisted. “Your bride has been sorely mistreated, Laird,” he added. “One side of her face was bruised, her skin the color of saffron with purple marks along her jaw and cheekbone. There was still some swelling evident, and I noticed other bruises on her hands and her right arm. Her left arm was bandaged from elbow to wrist, and there were bloodstains on the white linen. I wanted to ask the gentle lady how she had come by her injuries, but the words got trapped in my throat, and I found it impossible to speak a word. I could see the pain and weariness in her eyes, her glorious green eyes so like the color of our hills in spring, and I couldn't take my gaze away from her,” he admitted with a blush. “I believed in that moment that I was seeing an angel.”

Henley turned to address Aaron. “You asked me if she was comely, but that word does not do Laird Buchanan's bride justice.” His face turned as red as fire as he added, “The lady . . . she is very beautiful . . . aye, she must be an angel, for I swear to you she is perfection.”

Brodick hid his exasperation over the soldier's enthralled description of the Englishwoman. Angel, indeed, he thought to himself. An angel who blatantly lied.

“Did you describe the lady's perfection to your laird or any others in your clan?” Brodick asked.

“I did,” Henley admitted. “But I didn't overly embellish.”

“Why not?” Robert wanted to know.

Henley knew better than to turn his back on Laird Buchanan. It would be perceived as an insult, and for that
reason he didn't look at Robert when he answered him. “I knew they would go and claim her for their own if they knew the full impression she had made upon me. I told my laird the truth, that two Englishmen asked me to relay a message to your laird. I told him the brothers wished to let you know that the time had come for you to go and fetch your bride. My laird was content with that much information and bid me come to you . . . but his commander wanted more details.”

“Balcher questioned you?” Dylan asked.

“Yes,” Henley answered.

“And what did you tell him?” Robert asked.

“He asked me directly if the lady was in the Highlands now, and I couldn't, and wouldn't, ever lie to him. I answered that she was. I wasn't specific, though,” he admitted. “I had given my word to the lady that I would tell only you, Laird, of her exact whereabouts.”

“Then you lied to Balcher?” Dylan questioned.

Henley shook his head. “No, I didn't. I told my commander that the lady was near the Len holding. I didn't mention the church.”

“So even now Balcher could be on his way to steal Brodick's woman,” Aaron muttered.

“I was not sworn to secrecy, and so I can tell you that without a doubt Balcher will scour the Len holding looking for the lady. Everyone in the Highlands knows how much he would like to best you, Laird, and if he can steal your bride . . .”

“He dares to take what belongs to us,” Liam interjected, outraged by the possibility.

“If even one of the MacDonalds touches her, they will all die.” Robert voiced what the others were thinking. “Is that not true?”

“Aye, it is,” Liam agreed.

“I do not think you understand,” Henley said. “If my clansmen see her, they will not care about your laird's wrath. They will become too besotted to think clearly.”

Aaron shoved the messenger. “As you were besotted?” he asked.

“'Tis the truth I was.”

“But you didn't touch her?” Dylan asked.

“I have just told your laird that I did not touch her, and I value my life too much to lie to any of you. Besides, even if she were not your laird's bride, I wouldn't have dishonored her by trying to touch her. She is the most gentle of ladies.”

“Balcher won't care about honor,” Robert muttered.

Dylan was annoyed. Robert and Aaron and Liam had suddenly turned into the lady's champions. “Not five minutes ago you were outraged by this message,” he reminded them. “What has caused this change in attitude?”

“The MacDonalds,” Robert answered.

“Specifically Balcher,” Aaron interjected.

“The lady belongs to Brodick and no other shall have her,” Robert decreed.

So ludicrous had the conversation become, Brodick couldn't hold back his smile. “I have not claimed her,” he reminded the warriors.

“But she has claimed you, Laird,” Liam argued.

“And that makes it so?” Dylan asked.

Before anyone could answer, Brodick held up his hand for silence. “I would ask one last question of this messenger, and I would like to be able to hear his answer.”

“Yes, Laird?” Henley asked, shivering anew.

“You have told me that she called you to the window to speak to you, but you haven't told me what she said.”

“She sent an additional message to you.”

“A request?” Aaron asked.

Henley found his first smile. “Nay, 'twas not a request but an order.”

“She gives
me
an order?” Brodick was astounded by the woman's temerity.

Henley took a deep breath, hoping it wasn't going to be his last, and then blurted out, “She commands you to hurry.”

CHAPTER FIVE

G
illian was having second thoughts about her rash plan. She and Alec had waited in the abandoned church for almost twenty-four hours now, and that was surely long enough for the laird to reach her, if he had been so inclined.

She felt ill and knew that if she sat down she probably wouldn't have enough strength to get back up again, and so she paced up and down the main aisle while she thought about their circumstances.

“We're going to have to leave soon,” she told the little boy. “We simply cannot continue to wait.”

Alec sat on a chair with his legs folded under him watching her.

“You don't look so good, Gillian. Are you sick?”

“No,” she lied. “I'm just weary.”

“I'm hungry.”

“You just ate.”

“But then I threw up.”

“Yes, because you ate too fast,” she replied.

She went to the back of the church, where she'd placed her cloth satchel and the basket of food her dear friends the
Hathaway brothers had stolen for her. She glanced out the window and saw Henry pacing about the clearing.

“What are you staring at?” Alec asked.

“The Hathaways,” she answered. “I don't know what we would have done without them. Years ago they helped me get to my uncle's home. They were very courageous. Neither one of them thought twice about helping me again. I must find a way to repay them,” she added.

She handed Alec a wedge of cheese and a thick square of bread. “Please eat slowly this time.”

He took a bite of the cheese and then asked, “Uncle Brodick will be here soon, won't he?”

“Remember your manners, Alec. It isn't polite to talk with a mouth full of food.”

“You know what?” he asked, ignoring her criticism.

“No, what?”

“We can't leave 'cause then Uncle Brodick will be mad when he gets here and can't find us. We got to wait for him.”

She sat down next to him on the chair. “We'll give him one more hour, but that's all. All right?”

He nodded. “I hate waiting.”

“I do too,” she admitted.

“Gillian? What are you gonna do if you can't find your sister?”

“I will find her,” she countered. “I must.”

“You got to find that box too,” he said. “I heard the baron tell you so.”

“I don't know. The box disappeared years ago.”

“But you told the baron you knew where it was.”

“I lied,” she said. “It was all I could think of at the time to get him to leave you alone. My father gave the box to my sister to take with her. There was an accident . . .”

“But how come the baron wants the old box, anyway?”

“It's extremely valuable, and it's also the key to a mystery that happened a long time ago. Would you like to hear the story?”

“Is it scary?”

“A little. Do you still want to hear it?”

He eagerly nodded. “I like scary stories.”

She smiled. “All right then, I'll tell you. It seems that before John was King—”

“He was a prince.”

“Yes, he was, and he was madly in love with a young lady named Arianna. She was said to be very beautiful—”

“As beautiful as you?”

The question took her aback. “You think me beautiful?”

He nodded.

“Thank you, but Arianna was far more beautiful than any other lady in the kingdom. She had golden hair that shimmered in the sunlight—”

“Did she get sick and die?”

“No, she didn't get sick, but she did die.”

“Did she just up and keel over the way Angus did?”

“No, she—”

“Then what happened to her?”

She laughed. “I'll get this story told much quicker if you stop interrupting me. Now then, where was I? Oh, yes, as I was saying, Prince John was smitten with the beautiful woman—”

“What does ‘smitten' mean?”

“It means he was taken with her. He liked her.” She rushed on when she saw he was about to interrupt her again. “She was his first true love, and he wanted to marry her. Have you ever heard of Saint Columba's box?”

He shook his head. “What is it?”

“A jeweled case that belongs to the Scots,” she explained. “A long, long time ago, the sacred remains of Saint Columba were put inside the case—”

“What are ‘remains'?”

“Fragments of bones,” she answered. “Now, as I was saying, the remains were placed inside the box, and the Scots carried it into battle with them.”

“How come they wanted to carry bones into battle?”

“They believed that having the case with them would bring them victory over their enemies.”

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